


Kingmakers

by zeroambi



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Age Difference, Casual Sex, First Time, M/M, May/December Relationship, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-04-24 08:00:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14351280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeroambi/pseuds/zeroambi
Summary: He was to old for cock measuring contests, Brynden thought, and wanted to turn back again, but the boy had already spied him.





	Kingmakers

**Author's Note:**

> Set in late 302 AC. Loras is 20 and Brynden is 59, so if that's not your cup of tea ...

_The Blackfish_

“Where to the bath?” Brynden asked a squire, one of the Dornish, he met in his path. Harrenhal was a fucking labyrinth. A ruinous labyrinth at that. Rebuilding this thing to its short lived glory would be an almost impossible task, concerted effort and all.

"Just straight ahead, then left, and then down the stairs, mylord," the squire said and pointed down the hallway. When Brynden finally reached is destination, he found it pretty much empty at this late hour. Only Ser Loras Tyrell of all people was occupying the biggest of the pools. He was to old for cock measuring contests, Brynden thought, and wanted to turn back again, but the boy had already spied him.

“Lord Tully, please stay,” the young knight called out to him, “I’m no wolf, I promise I won’t bite.”

Could have fooled us, Brynden thought, but didn't want to give the impression of running away from the prickly Tyrell boy either. So he silently undressed an slipped into the hot water on the left side of the big pool. “What’s that smell?” he asked sniffing the strangley sweet air.

“Rose and lavender oil, ser," Ser Loras handed him a small bottle from the edge of the pool. "Go ahead, it’s very relaxing on the muscles.”

Brynden accepted the offer and started to massage some of the oil into his tightly wound shoulders. "I hope this is not poisoned?" he couldn't help but ask teasingly.

Ser Loras grimaced. “I must apologize for my appaling behaviour at the Great Council earlier today. It was rather hypocritical of me to call your niece out on her lack of diplomacy at Bitterbridge, as it ... is clearly not my strong suit either.“ The young knight looked actually ashamed too, as he said it. Cat was never one for mincing words, Brynden thought. Might have also been because she was fighting for her and her family’s sheer life and you fuckers were having a tourney and a feast.

"I also hope her grace the lady Sansa can find it in her heart to forgive me," Ser Loras added, looking much less convincingly apologetic here.

“For calling her a creepy redhead?” Brynden snorted. “I’m sure she has heard worse over the last years. You can be very glad to still have your cock though, after calling my other great niece a violent lunatic cunt.” At that point he had been sure the council would erupt into a bloodbath, but to his surprise Arya, who sat besides him, had just rolled her eyes and muttered something about 'ravens calling crows black' and 'you really know how to pick them' in her sister’s direction. Brynden suspected Sansa had been infatuated with the Tyrell boy when younger.

“I’m indeed glad my cock is still were it’s supposed to be, ser. Strange as it seems, but I’m rather attached to it after all.” The boys remaining eye was twinkling.

Was he really dallying with him? Brynden couldn't quite believe it. The burns the young knight had suffered from his assault on Dragonstone two and a half years ago were pretty unbelievable too. It wasn't like Brynden was a stranger to battle injuries. He himself had more than enough. Scars on his tighs and stomache, a missing toe and quite a few broken bones, but Ser Loras burned face put the late Hound's to shame. The whole right side was just a big scar tissue, standing in stark contrast to the still eerily beautiful left side. The young knight didn't wear an eyepatch either, like most men who had lost one would. Instead he had put some kind of gem into the empty socket. Probably amber, Brynden thought, from the golden glow of it.

“Not very pretty, is it?” Ser Loras asked and Brynden felt embarrassed for having stared.

“How the hells did you live, boy?” he asked.

Ser Loras shrugged. “The maesters were a bit of a loss at that too. They blamed it on some magic properties in the walls of Dragonstone in the end, I think.”

Time to lighten the mood a bit, Brynden thought: “Forget about the council. Fucking farce that it was," he said. "Having beeen prisoner of Lord Florent for so long would test the patience of any man, I guess. You were just showing your thorns. Got that from your grandmother, maybe?” A shadow went over Ser Loras face, well, the half that was still intact, and Brynden feared, that he had said the wrong thing perhaps.

“Maybe so,” Ser Loras said eventually.

A strange lot these Tyrells, Brynden thought. They were the only one of the Great Houses that had not even shown up at the Great Council. He had heard rumors Mace's heir Lord Willas had decided for an isolationist policy and also that he had banished his youngest brother from Highgarden and all the Reach on pain of death. Brynden knew all about being at odds with your family, but Hoster never went quite that far. He did not know what might have occured to warrant such a drastic measure. But he himself had contemplated and _done_ quite a few things during this war of however many kings and queens, he was not particulary proud of. 'War makes monsters out of all of us.'  Which of the Targaryen kings had said this? Baelor? Maekar? He couldn’t remember.

“Ser Brynden?” Ser Loras cut off his musings. “Last on the other side is a ... _Blackfish_ ,” he challenged and dived for the other side of the pool.

“Should have called you the _Knight of Cheaters_ ,” Brynden complained, as he reached the other side just an arm length after Ser Loras, and dunked the young knight playfully under water.

For a while they were just splashing at each other like children and then the _Knight of Flowers_ with only half a face kissed him on the lips.

Rose and lavender oil. Very relaxing on the muscles indeed.

***

“Fuck me like this again old man and you can have anything you want from me," Loras offered, still gasping for breath, "I’ll even marry the creepy redhead.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that", Brynden rolled off the young man and glanced at the doorway, "and the Kingslayer better pretend he didn’t see that,” he added.

“Now that was droll," Loras chuckled. "For a moment he even looked a bit jealous over there.”

“Gods forbid,” Brynden shook his head.

“Well, his sister is dead and Brienne is off to wed Hunt. The man is clearly running out of options,” Loras noted and rolled over to play with Brynden's nipples again.

“Enjoying yourself boy?” Brynden asked, letting him do as he liked.

“Hells yes. For the first time in a very long while too,” Loras confirmed and kissed him once more.

***

**Author's Note:**

> [...] with only half a face kissed him on the lips.
> 
> This halfline is blatantly stolen from GRRM's "Dying of the Light". I really like the parallels between Loras and Bretan.


End file.
